Enchantment
by Luci Ferre
Summary: He knew of Hibari's feelings towards him, long before the tonfa-wielder was aware of it himself. ONESHOT


First fic, but by no means hold back on the criticism. I appreciate anything that can help me improve…except, of course, illegible and nonsensical flames.

Please do not copy, modify or redistribute this fan fiction in any way, anywhere, anyhow. This fan fiction is posted on FF(dot)net and LJ only.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn. But I do love the manga!**

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'**:.; "E.n.c.h.a.n.t.m.e.n.t.";.:'**

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He knew of Hibari's feelings towards him long before the tonfa-wielder was aware of it himself. It was always there, this niggling, trembling sensation that reached out with tremulous butterfly wings to the sensitive edges of his senses, begging for acknowledgement.

It was unsettling at first – hey, who wouldn't when he sensed it coming from _the_ Hibari, of all people? Tsuna had shied away, afraid and not assured. After all, Hibari still called him a 'weakling herbivore' and let his lips curl into a demeaning smirk whenever he saw him, so what are the chances of it being true?

As time passed, however, he learned to associate the feeling with Hibari, and even acknowledged it as a part of that guy, a coveted locket of sorts. He supposed it was a great honour to be allowed to keep such an important part of the Cloud Guardian's heart.

He also learned to look forward to that niggling, trembling sensation, and the dark, mysterious aura that preceded the quiet man. He waited for the confession to drop from Hibari's pale, carefully sculpted lips.

Nothing came, and the eves of new years dawned. Tomorrow, come dawn, would usher in the ninth anniversary of the _famiglia_'s union. The mafia world was tearing itself apart just like the alternate future they glimpsed as ignorant teenagers. Tsuna was chagrined; he brainstormed, he puzzled, he cried…but he was unable to force the hand of fate.

Tsuna miserably admitted he was very lucky to have all of his guardians still alive. Together they were seven, linked as the Vongola's immovable wall against the harshness of the real world.

What they didn't know was that Tsuna – the chain that bound them together – was dying, bit by bit.

Bitterly, he swallowed the bile and told himself they need not know.

He would carry it alone as the Vongola Decimo. No doubt Reborn could elect the next leader from their ranks – pronto, hastened by the throes of war. Yamamoto would make a fine leader. Hibari, too, though his methods were rather ruthless and sadistic.

So Tsuna smiled as he faced them all, concealing the black scar that was spreading across his body. They would survive, he promised with a grim smile, breath hitching. He would make sure of that, even if that was the last thing he could do.

It attacked his stomach first, coiling its poisonous claws around the soft organ and choking the passageways, causing severe stomach pains and a splitting headache. Tsuna himself passed it off as a bad case of food poisoning – never mind that it manifested itself from the sword wound he received from the Phantom Knight.

Next were his kidneys. Shrivelled, probably. He didn't know any other method of deterioration that could cause as much pain as a thousand sharpened knives.

More internal organs started to waver and fail, and Tsuna was forced to admit his inevitable demise when he saw the scars growing, unfurling like a poisonous black rose on his sallow skin. His appetite disappeared in entirety, but he forced himself to swallow mouthful after mouthful at every meal (and heave it all up after the others left despite his best efforts to keep it down), if only to discourage the others from suspecting something amiss.

This was war. The Vongola needed a leader, not an ailing idiot who couldn't do more than lie in bed. That was what Tsuna told himself every day, chanting the mantra in his mind each time his slippery control was lost and the knives carved deeper.

When his muscles started to rot, however, Tsuna knew his time was almost up. He quickened the pace of operations, sent his Guardians to the frontlines more often, risking everything on things as small as rumours. No one questioned him, not even Reborn, though the skilled Arcobaleno watched him with puzzled concern.

He preferred it that way.

Within days, his heart started to die too. He could feel it in the way his weakened limbs became numb and his mind grew fuzzy even as his vision blurred and distorted. Hence he confined himself to his chair behind the table, where he continued leading them despite a failing heart, and a failing body.

Often his words threatened to slur, to melt into one incomprehensible jumble, and it took a tremendous effort to keep his dulling eyes open.

He persevered, though, because it was something they expected of him.

Death's approaching embrace made Tsuna reminisce on many things as he inclined his weary head on one shaky knuckle. He wondered all day, from important matters to things so mundane it would make Reborn snort and Hibari hit him if they knew. From darling Kyoko-chan to I-pin to Lambo to Gokudera to Yamamoto to Chrome, to Ryohei, to Reborn, to---

---to Hibari, who had yet to admit his feelings for him.

His breathing was shallow and measured now, and he knew it was only a matter of time before his willpower tore like the delicate paper it had become. It was getting hard to even sit upright. So he called his Guardians to his side, but conveniently left Reborn out – that sharp-witted infant would sniff out his dying life faster than the disease could snuff it.

It was too late either way; he was beyond saving now.

"Gokudera," he rasped. "Gokudera, can you handle the rebels in the south? Take Yamamoto and Ryohei with you---please."

He hid his cough behind a feigned yawn.

"Lambo, I-pin, will you please check the borders for me? I hear there are some skirmishes there and I want you two to---to check it out."

His words slipped and slid like curd in milk, and he cursed himself for the show of weakness. Several pairs of eyes narrowed in concern.

Tsuna took a deep breath, hearing it rattle in his failing body, and closed his eyes.

"That is all. Please, leave." He refused to admit his voice faltered and tapered off towards the end. His heart thumped slower against his battered ribcage.

"Tenth---" Gokudera protested, but Tsuna waved it away, the simple gesture making his body sway dangerously. He caught himself – barely. He couldn't see anything beyond indistinct blurs now.

"Go," he said, stronger this time. And they left – he heard their footsteps receding. The door clicked, but the noise escaped him. A sigh rushed out of his dry, pale lips, and Tsuna allowed his head to dip. The black scars greedily sucked out the remainder of his life, stealing each heartbeat with an ease assassins would envy. Exhaustion claimed his body.

"Herbivore," he dimly heard someone snap. Startled, he tried to wake up, to open his heavy-lidded eyes, but his efforts were weak and waning.

"Herbivore, wake up." Slight urgency laced that rich tenor. Tsuna wondered if he should respond, because that voice sounded very familiar, comforting in a way. Whose was it, and why was it…ah…what…? Tsuna's head nodded lower.

Warm hands grabbed his face with surprising gentleness, fitting the contours of his face like a glove. Tsuna breathed out shakily.

"Oi! If you don't get up I'll bite you to death!"

Tsuna would grin if he could. It sounded comical right now…so typical. He recognised it at last, as his mind sluggishly dredged up a name from its crashing memory banks.

_Hibari_.

He didn't realize he'd spoken out loud, not until he felt Hibari's grip tighten. He supposed it should hurt, but he was beyond the threshold of pain now, unable to comprehend the sensation for other than a dead weight on his jaw.

Mustering up the last vestiges of his strength, Tsuna looked up and tried to smile. It was meant for Hibari, or whatever that guy's name was, but he could no longer see so he stabbed blindly instead, hoping to catch the man's eye – was the person holding him a male? He couldn't know.

"Lead them," he breathed, then he let his eyes droop for good.

"_Tsuna!_"

Hibari's feelings were left buried to the very end.

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Later, to hide the truth, the Vongola concocted a lie and let it spread: the Vongola Decimo was dead, gunned down by an enemy.

A private funeral was held, but only a scant few knew when and where it happened. The casket, made of strong oak and adorned with the Tenth's symbol, inscribed in gold, creaked as it was lowered into the soft ground to be hidden for eternity.

Some cried; some called him stupid; but there was one person who said nary a word throughout the melancholic ceremony.

In the evening, when all the Guardians had left to mourn separately, Hibari crouched beside the fresh mound and traced something into the ground with a finger.

It rained the very next morning, and the faint traces of '_I love you_' disappeared from the soil, a lost secret between two for as long as the other lived.

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If anyone can explain the numbers used to denote each KHR character, I'll be eternally grateful. I have yet to make sense of them and it's driving me crazy…!

That said, please read and review! Tell me what you think so I can improve and write some more. :)


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